


Memories of love

by Morte-Épée (Morte_Epee)



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Alcohol, Boys' Love, Confessions, First Kiss, M/M, Military, Night Terrors, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 16:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14048133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morte_Epee/pseuds/Morte-%C3%89p%C3%A9e
Summary: The memory of a kiss between two merciless soldiers. Something so unusually tender you can hardly imagine it.





	Memories of love

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank a fabulous artist who makes my fictions alive, who helps me and who advises me constantly.  
> Enjoy for the lovers of Colonel Archer and Crimson Alchemist. Long live to them <3  
> https://gravesecret.tumblr.com/

Être aimé, c’est pouvoir montrer ses faiblesses sans que l’autre s’en serve pour exercer sa force. (Cesare)

To be loved is to be able to show one's weaknesses without the other using it to exercise one's strength.

It was a long morning. Between phone calls and piles of documents which had to be signed asap, Archer did not have time to take a break...unlike Kimblee, who was dozing, his face buried in the crook of his arm on the desk. Looking at his lover, Archer gently reached for the handle of his cup and sipped his scented tea.  
Although Kimblee did not like office work, the Colonel had insisted that he never be too far away from him. Even if it was only the bare minimum of security, at least this way, nothing got demolished by Kimblee's hands.  
Archer closed his eyes , enjoying the silence, and brought the cup close to his lips again. The hot steam rising from his cup softly caressed his lips, reminding him of the passionate kisses he shares with his alchemist: powerful like black tea and exhilarating like fresh mint. He sighed with satisfaction, his eyes still closed.  
He thought about the moment when they met at the South HQ, the various bars they had went to afterwards for a drink, and that famous night in Archer's apartment, where he had drunk too much to stay rational. They had been chatting until late into the night and the Colonel was so captivated by the war stories they shared that he was not paying attention to Kimblee, who was refilling his glass the moment it was empty. Alcohol strongly helping, Archer had leaned closer towards the alchemist , gazing deeply into his amber eyes, all proper military etiquette gone. Kimblee had playfully retreated, leaning back so Archer had to advance a bit more towards him, but finally Archer and Kimblee's lips met. Their kiss was sweet, but also full of want, their tongues intertwined in a carnal dance and neither of the two soldiers wanted to stop tasting the other.

Feeling chills in his stomach, Archer opened his eyes suddenly. He looked down at Kimblee, who was still asleep. He put his cup meticulously on his desk to walk towards him.  
Once in front of him, Archer hesitated a long time between the idea of screaming to wake him up or simply to contemplate him in silence. The Colonel huffed and put his elbows on the desk, tilting his head to the side to see the closed eyes of his lover. Kimblee might be the Crimson Alchemist, but he seemed harmless when he slept. Archer caressed Kimblee's hot cheek with the back of his hand, his gaze still on his lover's eyelashes.

Thoughtful, Archer remembered their first night together. It was shortly after they kissed, but the kiss transitioned fluently into the next step. Kimblee had stayed and the Colonel did not seem to mind. Once in bed, there was a long, heavy silence, one not fully sure of the other, so heavy that the two soldiers fell asleep. Frank was laying on his side and Kimblee took up the rest of the bed's space; his face in the pillow, his arms spread across the bed, with one draped over the colonel's head.  
Later that night, Kimblee, prone to restless sleep and nightmares, woke up in a state of panic. He violently pushed the peacefully sleeping Archer, thus throwing him out of the shared bed. Archer banged his forehead against the pedestal table and had ended up on the ground, moaning in pain. Now Kimblee was fully awake; sweating, out of breath and troubled. Hearing his Colonel moan, he rushed to his side, wanting to make a light-hearted joke to break the spell of the awkward situation, but his voice had broken when he saw that Archer was bleeding from a pretty bad cut on his brow.

Although the cut was not bleeding a lot, Kimblee felt an iron fist clench around his heart. Bloodshed by his own hands usually made Kimblee excited, more than anything else in his life, but now he only felt dread. He had just hurt the only man to whom he pretty much owed his life. Without Archer to give him another chance in the military, Kimblee would have lived his remaining days in loneliness, always running from different authorities, who eventually would be after him. If Archer and Kimblee wouldn't have met that day at South HQ, Kimblee would still be under Greed's sharp hands, or, more likely, dead. Without Archer, Kimblee would never have known the feeling of caring or even loving someone else.

In the bathroom, while Archer applied a compress to his head, Kimblee was silent for once. He looked at his Colonel with sadness, for fear of being rejected or even worse, ridiculed for his night terrors. He had sat on the cold floor, silently waiting for his fate, with Archer being judge and executor. After putting several compresses on the wound, Archer sat next to his alchemist, asking him to better understand what had happened. Contrary to what Kimblee imagined, the Colonel had been understanding and reassuring. They talked all night in the bathroom, discovering affinities and differences.

It was the beginning of their story.

Archer got up and silently went back to his desk. Sitting down, he gave his lover a last look, seeing a faint smile on his face, before going back to work.


End file.
